They'll Never Know
by KoshIII
Summary: House meets a patient who reminds him of himself.  Written for the FOX Last Author Standing Livejournal contest.  The prompt was "Write the story completely from any one character's POV."  Warning for child abuse.


House glared at the nurse. She was waving a file in his face as if that would make him care enough to see a clinic patient. He sighed and grabbed the file, hooking his cane over his arm as he glanced over it. Possible wrist fracture. _Boring_. He limped over to exam room two and opened the door.

A teenager was seated on the examining table, cradling his wrist. He glared at House.

House hobbled in and pulled out a stool. "So. Your wrist?"

"I'm fine," was all the kid said.

House gestured at the kid to hold out his wrist. He palpated, occasionally asking, "Does it hurt here?" Finally he said, "Okay. All done."

The kid once again began to cradle the bad arm close to his torso.

"Yeah, it's most likely broken. I'm going to send you for an x-ray in a few minutes. But first, how did it happen?" House asked, clicking his pen open to scribble some notes in the chart.

"Fell off my skateboard," the kid mumbled.

House brightened. "Skateboarder, huh? Did you see Tony Hawk when he did that demo in Philly last month?"

"Who?" the kid asked dully.

House couldn't help raising an eyebrow. Something just didn't seem right. First of all, this kid didn't look like any skateboarder he had met. Second, he had never heard of Tony Hawk. Third –

"When you skate, do you always wear a helmet?" House asked.

The kid hesitated, then nodded.

"Okay, did you come straight here after you fell?"

Again, the kid nodded, after appearing to think about it for a moment.

"Then where's your helmet?"

Now the kid had a panicked look. _Ah hah!_ House thought.

"It's, um…in my dad's car."

Hmmm. House supposed that could be a legitimate excuse. If only the kid didn't need a minute to think of an answer to each question. This was beginning to remind him of another kid he once knew.

"_Well, Greg, you're going to need an x-ray. Want to tell me how this happened?"_

_Greg looked at Dr. Simpson, hesitating. The doctor was so nice to him. He seemed the epitome of a kindly country doctor. This was the chance he had been waiting for. He just needed to take it._

_Usually, when his dad shoved him, he would catch himself; keep his balance. Unless he was near a wall, there wasn't usually any lasting damage. This time, he had come up with a plan. He offered no resistance whatsoever, and let the old man push him all the way to the ground. He had landed on his arm, and when he heard the snap, he almost smiled. Now he would have to go see a doctor. Now someone would have to notice. Or if not, maybe he could tell someone. Maybe the doctor would believe him._

_He looked into Dr. Simpson's eyes for a long moment, contemplating. Finally, he hung his head. He just couldn't bring himself to say it. "I jumped out the window. I wanted to fly like Superman," he whispered, dutifully repeating the lie that his dad had drilled into him on the way over. He schooled his features to show no emotion whatsoever. It had taken him years to learn that trick, but when he did it, nobody could even begin to tell what he was thinking. His eyes were empty, giving nothing away._

_He couldn't meet Dr. Simpson's gaze again without losing his own expression. _Please don't believe me_, he begged inside his head. _You've got to know what a pathetic lie that is. You've got to know this is just going to happen again…and again….

_Dr. Simpson never seemed to pick up on his psychic pleas. The doctor x-rayed the arm, plastered the cast on, and sent Greg home with his dad._

_He remembered thinking, as he stared out the car window, cradling his arm, _Why didn't he realize that everybody lies?

"What's your name, kid?" House asked.

"Why do you care? Just get me fixed up so I can go home." There was no emotion in the kid's look; not even a glare anymore. It was then that House made his decision.

"Okay. Wait right here, and a nurse will come take you for that x-ray."

House walked out of the exam room and gently shut the door behind him. As he let the desk nurse know about the x-ray, he picked up the phone and made a call.

Twenty minutes later, Cuddy stormed into exam room three, startling House awake.

"Of all the doctors on my staff likely to jump the gun on calling DYFS, you would have been last on my list."

"I didn't jump the gun," he responded calmly. "We are mandated to report suspected abuse."

"How can it be suspected abuse when you made the call _before_ the x-ray?"

House shrugged. "I just know."

Cuddy laughed. "You almost never even see patients. What would you know about signs of abuse?"

House was still trying to figure out how to answer her question when a nurse popped in the door. "Dr. House, the x-ray is back. Dr. Chavez is already getting the patient a cast."

House grabbed the film and held it up to the light. Sure enough, the wrist was broken. Then he passed it over to Cuddy. He waited for her reaction.

"There are four other fractures on this arm alone," she whispered.

He nodded without saying anything, and then propelled himself out of the exam room. He didn't want to see whatever expression Cuddy was giving him now.

House was nearly run over by the DYFS team. They had also been given a copy of the x-ray, and were leading the kid out. House tried to catch a glimpse of the kid's face, but it was still blank. House knew that look well, and he knew that he could only guess what was really going on under the empty eyes. He would never know for sure.


End file.
